


Thank God for Chemistry (Beca NEVER Thought She'd Say That)

by HamstersAndLunchboxes



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Beca thinks Chloe's really hot, F/F, Who doesn't though, lab partners au, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 12:43:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13681932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamstersAndLunchboxes/pseuds/HamstersAndLunchboxes
Summary: The only chemistry Beca Mitchell has with Chloe Beale is the class and that's the end of that.(Jesse would beg to differ.)





	Thank God for Chemistry (Beca NEVER Thought She'd Say That)

**Author's Note:**

> Based off this Tumblr prompt: I accidentally spilled hydrochloric acid on you so you really need to use the emergency shower and omg, if i knew you looked that good shirtless and wet i would have spilled it on you much earlier in the semester AU. 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this, wow, oneshots are cool.

It all started out innocent enough. Beca was going to college because her father was making her. It was only her first year and she didn’t have a major, so she was getting all of her required electives out of the way. She needed a lab and Chemistry 101 was about as basic as it got. She promised her father one year with passing grades and then she’d be on her way to LA to become a kickass music producer. See? Innocent.

However, Beca  _ hadn’t _ planned on nearly being late on the first day. She was perfectly fine with being late any other day. She didn’t  _ care _ about impressions. In fact, Beca planned on going the first day, then skiving off and bullshitting her way through the rest of the semester. So she didn’t  _ care _ , per se. But even Beca felt like there was something about the “First Day of [Insert Whatever Here]” and didn’t feel good about skipping––or even being late.

So when she woke up at 9am, thirty-five minutes before her first day of Chemistry 101 with one Professor B. Banner (Beca had promised herself if Professor Banner’s first name was ‘Bruce’, she was dropping out), she fell out of bed in a heap of blankets, cursing loudly and hoping Kimmy Jin was either already awake or out of the dorm. 

Kimmy Jin, thankfully, was already gone. Beca didn’t need to deal with her glaring and incoherent muttering  _ ever _ , but especially not at 9-in-the-freaking-morning. After finding her way out of her impromptu maze of blankets, Beca got dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and a low-cut tank top, which was typical Beca wear. To top off the look, she threw her hair into a messy bun and pulled on a zip-up hoodie with her Converse. She didn’t want to look like she cared too much, after all. A quick look at the clock told her it was going on ten after, so she brushed her teeth and was out the door, backpack slung over one shoulder.

The science building was across the quad, and Beca didn’t actually hate the walk over. She’d mastered her scowl over the years, and paired with her gauges and piercings, people tended to avoid her like the plague. That, combined with the view of the Barden campus, made the walk to the science building quite peaceful. The outdoors were something Beca liked stay  _ far _ away from, but even she could appreciate nature’s beauty. She had to grudgingly respect her father’s ability to pick a town to work in––Atlanta was nice.

When she finally made it to the building, it was 9:30, and she was practically skidding into the room before Professor Banner shut the door. (Professor Banner who was, by the way, a girl. So not a ‘Bruce’. At least, Beca certainly hoped she wasn’t a ‘Bruce’.) The room was mostly full except for a free lab bench and a seat beside a leggy brunette who practically  _ oozed _ sex appeal. Beca hightailed it for the free lab bench. She knew, conversely, she’d probably be stuck with the girl as a lab partner, but at least she wouldn’t have to sit with her and be distracted by her very generous amount of…of, well,  _ boob _ the entire class.

As she was getting settled in, though, the door swung open to reveal a frazzled looking blonde and slightly-less-frazzled redhead. Beca realized what was happening too late. The only two seats available were beside her and beside the other brunette who looked like she knew her way around the pole. The redhead zeroed in on her and–– _ wow _ , her eyes were  _ really _ blue. Like color-of-the-fucking-sky blue. And her hair was sleek and curled at the ends and she was smiling  _ so _ widely, it should have been illegal, and her button-up was popped a few buttons, and–– _ Focus up, Mitchell _ , Beca scolded.  _ Two semesters. No friends. Los Angeles. Eyes on the prize, dude! _

Eyes on the prize–– _ The redhead  _ could _ be the prize _ , said the back of Beca’s brain.

_ Fuck off _ , she told it.

Beca was comfortable in her own skin. She’d known she was gay since she was fifteen when her and Caitlyn Walters had kissed in the locker room after gym class. Caitlyn, who then dumped Beca after a week because she liked Jimmy Walters. (There was no relation between the two, but it was still super weird.) Beca didn’t care though––Caitlyn had served her purpose. Beca found out she liked girls, Caitlyn got pregnant with Jimmy’s kid their senior year and dropped out of high school. It was fate or something, probably.

But there was no way on this stereotypic earth that Little Miss Sunshine was gay, or bi, or pan, or even bicurious. (Okay,  _ maybe _ bicurious, but only in the good name of college experimentation.) She was too…straight. She practically screamed heterosexuality from her impossibly perfect face to her blonde friend, outraged at the thought of splitting up. She’d probably been a popular cheerleader in high school that was everyone’s friend. All the girls wanted to be her, all the guys wanted to date her.

Beca hated her the instant she sat down on the stool beside her. 

And then she started  _ talking _ and her voice was melodious and she was even prettier up close,  _ god, _ how could  _ anyone _ be that attractive–– _ The prize, Mitchell! LA, not the goddamn redhead! _

“Hi! You weren’t saving this seat for anyone, were you?” She asked, the words tumbling out of her mouth.

Beca, in all her useless lesbian glory, realized  _ much _ too late that the redhead was probably looking for an answer. “Uh, erm, no, I mean, I don’t think––”

“Oh, good! I’m Chloe, by the way. Chloe Beale.”

Beca felt like a prize winning pig––slow, goofy, and a ridiculously bright shade of pink. “I’m Mitch––er, Beca. I’m Beca. Mitchell. Beca Mitchell. My last name…is Mitchell,” she finished quietly. 

Chloe laughed–– _ oh god, it was beautiful, like the harmony of her favorite song, or the melody of an obscure, slow gem on a small artist’s record, or the blending of––Jesus Christ. _ Okay so maybe Beca was exaggerating, but seriously. The girl beside her probably farted a perfectly executed G chord and pooped sunsets. Was it too late to switch seats?

Professor Banner answered that question a second later.

Yes, it was too late to switch seats, and yes, whoever you were beside would be your lab partner for the remainder of the semester. She said remainder like there wasn’t the  _ entire fucking semester left _ , and Beca almost died right there.

“Hear that?” Chloe whispered, entirely too close to Beca for comfort. “We’re gonna be lab partners!” She squealed. She literally squealed with excitement and Beca would have been supremely annoyed if she wasn’t so attractive. (Seriously, whose fucking genes produced someone so perfect, holy shit.)

No. No, Beca could handle this. Beca could handle a semester with a devastatingly attractive redhead next to her at all times. (She really wished she’d gone for the busty brunette beside Chloe’s friend.)

For about a half hour, Professor Banner talked about the class, and the materials they’d need, and the general outline. She was a flighty woman who had that ‘mad scientist’ look to her and she was way too excited for chemistry, especially before ten o’clock. They’d be starting labs next Wednesday, so Beca had a full week to prepare before she’d have to deal with three hours of Chloe Beale, uninterrupted.

At least she had some time to prepare (not that she needed it).

Before the class was dismissed, Chloe briefly touched Beca’s arm, saying how nice it was to meet her and she hoped to see her outside of class sometime. Beca’s heart most certainly did  _ not _ start racing at the contact.

(Okay, she definitely needed it.)

The following week flew by in a flurry of awkward eye contact, brushed arms, and stolen glances. She was just so  _ pretty _ . Honestly, it was distracting. Beca wished on several occasions that it would be socially acceptable for her to yell at Chloe for being gorgeous and interrupting her studies. Unfortunately, it would not be, and she’d probably get made fun of by the entirety of the student population, and Chloe would laugh at her and write her off, and Beca would become the laughingstock of Barden University. And okay,  _ maybe _ she was exaggerating a little (a lot), but seriously, Chloe was starting to impair her work (or purposeful lack thereof).

Beca actually found herself waking up for Chemistry for the next week and going  _ early _ . Frankly, it was gross. She would repeat to herself over and over that it wasn’t because of the angelic redhead she sat beside, but rather because Professor Banner was an engaging teacher. (It was definitely because of the redhead.)

What sucked was that Beca  _ hated _ chemistry. She hated it with a passion, but she was good at it and she’d passed with flying colors in high school. Now here she was, in college, with a barely scraped B on the first practice test, for Professor Banner to see where everyone in the class was. She’d made stupid mistakes throughout the entire thing, mistakes that she certainly should have caught. Mistakes that she missed because Chloe’s arm kept brushing hers and she smelled like stupidly tropical like vanilla and coconut and she bit her lip and furrowed her brows when she was focusing and Beca was going to go insane.

_ No _ . No she wasn’t. She was going to be  _ fine. _ It was only a semester, right? Beca could do this. She was a master of broody indifference. Chloe wasn’t an exception. She was a challenge. And Beca wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, ever. 

So Beca was seriously considering backing down from this challenge.

Chloe was just too much. She was an overwhelming whirlwind of smiles and fruity scents laced with vanilla and giggles and accidental touches (or purposeful, Beca wasn’t sure at this point).

It was three weeks into the semester. It took Chloe one to find Beca’s hiding spot in the back of the library and force her to study with her because Beca was great at chemistry. Great once she finally started to focus on the curriculum and not the way Chloe laughed when she muttered passive aggressive comments under her breath during class. Chloe was good at chemistry too, but not  _ Beca _ good and she insisted that if Beca helped her study, she’d buy her coffee. And well, who was Beca to turn down the company of a beautiful girl and free coffee? She would be stupid to.

Their first and second lab went by without a hitch. The pair worked like a well-oiled machine, Beca weaving where Chloe bobbed and doing calculations together and pointing out each others mistakes. They got As on both, easily. It  _ was _ only three weeks in and the material was still moderately basic, but Beca was happy nonetheless. Chloe was a good lab partner. She actively helped with the work instead of sitting by and making Beca do everything like her high school partner. 

So Beca supposed they were…friends. In the barest sense of the word, that was. They hung out after class (on a strict  _ study only _ basis) and they worked well together. Chloe was someone that could make Beca smile, even if it was relatively grudging.

(Jesse, the other intern at the campus radio station, had been trying for the past three weeks. Beca made the mistake of walking with Chloe to class one day and laughing at one of her stupid comments. [They weren’t together on purpose. Beca just happened to see her alone on the quad, and when she was trying to pass her, Chloe sped up. Not Beca’s fault.] Jesse hasn’t stopped harassing her since.)

So they were friends. That was fine. Beca didn’t exactly do friends, but Chloe didn’t exactly do boundaries. The ‘accidental’ touches were definitely purposeful now. A hand on Beca’s arm when she laughed to support herself, touching Beca’s hand to help level off the beakers, a soft press against the small of Beca’s back when she passed behind her. Each time, Beca’s face burst into flames. Each time, Beca died a little inside. But they were friends. Chloe was a touchy person in general. Chloe was a flirty person. Beca had seen Chloe interact with others. She wasn’t special at all. They were  _ friends _ . 

(But when Chloe leaned over to whisper to Beca when Professor Banner’s back was turned and her hot breath washed over her neck, her lips accidentally brushing the shell of Beca’s ear, Beca shot up like a bottle rocket, proclaimed ‘I have to use the restroom!’ and bolted because  _ holy shit what the hell was that. _ )

Jesse (who became less of a nuisance and more of a bro over time) was convinced otherwise. “Dude, I’ve seen the way she looks at you. That redhead has the hots for short alt girls with ear spikes. You guys have…” He paused dramatically. “ _ Chemistry _ . ” Beca hadn’t responded, insteading choosing to slap Jesse across the back of his head and call him a dork. They were  _ just friends _ . 

Beca supposed she was only special in relations to Chloe’s best friend, Aubrey. Because Aubrey hated her with her entire being and Beca wasn’t sure why. She knew people like her and people like Aubrey didn’t naturally get along, but she’d barely ever spoken to the older girl. It didn’t matter though. The disdainful scowls that Aubrey would send at Beca during chemistry were unparalleled. Chloe wrote it off. “She doesn’t like anyone, I’m the exception,” she would say. Then she would wink and finish with, “Just like with you, Mitchell!” and blow Beca a kiss. (Beca felt her heart stop briefly. She was considering getting an inhaler for her all of her interactions with Chloe Beale.)

But none of that mattered. In fact, Beca’s friendship with Chloe barely mattered. The older girl had told her early in the semester that she was a senior. She’d be graduating in May and pursuing grad school, hopefully, as a vet. So Beca didn’t really think too much about how much she’d miss the redhead during her sophomore year or how much she  _ wouldn’t _ miss Aubrey’s constant glare. (Well, maybe she would, because Aubrey glaring meant Chloe was talking to Beca instead of her, and Beca would always stick her tongue out at her. After all, she never claimed to be mature.)

Then everything flipped upside down. And it was all because of one mishap in the lab. Beca never thought she’d be so thankful for stoichiometry.  

They were five weeks into the semester. It was a Wednesday, which meant it was lab day. They had just started stoichiometry on Monday and the experiment included baking soda and hydrochloric acid, and Beca hadn’t really payed attention to Professor Banner’s excited babbling. Thankfully, Chloe had.

“We’re seeing how many moles of salt we can make by mixing hydrochloric acid and sodium bicarbonate,” she said as they went to the back of the room to get the safety equipment.

“That sounds absolutely riveting,” Beca deadpanned. “I truly cannot wait.”

Chloe giggled and shoved her lightly. “Oh, come on, Becs. It’ll be fun! You love lab day!”

That was true. Beca did love lab day. It was a break from taking notes and that was welcomed. But today she just…wasn’t feeling it. 

“I dunno, Chlo…” she said. (Oh, yeah, the nicknames were new.) Beca had woken up late that morning. She wore a Barden hoodie over a loose tank top, but she still managed to put on jeans. Her hair was pulled back for lab day. Beca was just  _ tired _ . “I was up late last night studying for an ethics exam.”

Chloe wrinkled her nose. “How do you  _ study _ for an ethics exam. You just have to be a good person and answer like one. The first part of the sentence is even optional.”

“Not sure if you’ve realized, but you’re the token ‘good person’ in this friendship,” Beca drawled with a quirked brow.

“You’re too hard on yourself. You’re like...like an avocado.”

Beca frowned.

“You’re all hard on the outside, but on the inside, you’re just a big ol’ softie.”

“I am not.”

“You bought me my breakfast yesterday when we were studying.  _ Voluntarily. _ ”

“You left your wallet in your coat!” Beca protested.

“My coat was draped over the back of my chair two feet away! I went to get it and you grabbed my arm to stop me, Mitchell. You aren’t fooling anyone.”

Beca felt her cheeks heat up as they reached the cabinet. She grabbed two pairs of safety goggles and gloves, rolling her eyes, feigning indifference. “Whatever,” she mumbled because Chloe was right. That had happened yesterday morning. When she woke up at 7am. To get breakfast with Chloe at eight. Her first class wasn’t until ten on Tuesdays. Oh god, what was happening to her.

“And,” Chloe continued as they walked back to their lab bench, “you made a mix for me. And it wasn’t even a special occasion. You just  _ made _ it. Of your own free will. And do you remember when I asked you to listen to one when we first met? You said, ‘I don’t let anyone listen to my mixes,’ and then you  _ made me one _ .”

Okay, Beca had done that too. She  _ had _ told Chloe that she didn’t mix for anyone and she  _ had _ made Chloe a mix for no reason other than because she really liked her. (It was practically futile denying it at this point. Beca had come to terms with her hopeless crush. It’d be gone by next semester. [Probably.])

“And––”

“Okay!” Beca interrupted. “Okay.” She snapped her goggles over her face. “Fine, I’m a big softie, you’re the only one to crack my shell, yada yada, can we start the experiment now?”

Chloe beamed––she fucking  _ beamed _ , and how someone could look so great while wearing safety goggles was a goddamn mystery to Beca.

Everything started off  _ great _ . But Beca had been up late and she was tired and everything went to shit so fast, Beca could barely process. And if she  _ could _ process, she still wouldn’t have been able to do anything because she was a useless lesbian.

It all started because Beca weaved when Chloe weaved and the beaker filled with a couple ounces of hydrochloric acid splashed on Chloe’s shirt. Then it was pandemonium.

Professor Banner had seen and started yelling, “CLOTHES OFF,” and students who hadn’t noticed were looking at her and Chloe with wide eyes. Chloe locked eyes with Beca as the beaker fell and shattered and then sprang into action. Beca was stunned as Chloe wrenched her raglan over her head and tossed it aside, then turning and running for the emergency shower. As she pulled the lever, everyone stood in stunned silence.

Beca couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t do  _ anything _ . Because Chloe was dripping wet and shaking in nothing but her jeans and (thankfully) a bright blue sports bra that matched her eyes. Beca’s gaze raked over toned abs as she flexed involuntarily between shivers. Her thought process wasn’t much more than incoherent babbling and being stunned at the sight of a shirtless Chloe Beale. She had always been (incredibly) attractive but  _ this _ . This was almost too much. This  _ was  _ too much. Chloe’s face rivalled the color of her hair. Beca’s eyes met hers and she smiled timidly. It was enough to launch Beca into action.

She shook her head and grabbed a towel from the back room before pushing through slackjawed students at the sight of the topless redhead. Latching onto her hand and  _ determined _ to not let Chloe see that she was blushing as well, she tugged her gently but quickly out of the room to the girls’ restroom across the hall. 

Gently, Beca draped the towel across Chloe’s shoulders. She stood back, holding her at arm’s length, eyes roving over her figure to check for any burns or signs of injury at all. Luckily, there were none that she saw and Beca was just left with her sopping lab partner.

“Are you okay?” flew out of Beca’s mouth before she could collect her thoughts. She started checking for any injuries again, anything at all, before even giving Chloe a chance to respond.

Chloe laughed and Beca’s knees turned to jelly. She was very thankful she was still holding onto Chloe’s arms. The redhead’s hands softly gripped her biceps. “Hey, Becs, I’m okay. I’m fine. A little cold, though.” She ducked her head shyly.

Both Chloe and Beca seemed to realized at the same time that Chloe was still  _ very  _ topless. Beca’s mouth felt like it was stuffed with cottonballs. Chloe was blushing bright red still and actually looked vaguely self-conscious.

“I am  _ so _ sorry, Chlo, holy shit, I wasn’t watching where I was going, and you weaved, and I weaved, and I should have bobbed, and this is all my fault, and holy hell, you could have been burned, Jesus Christ, I don’t even know what I would have done, oh my god, dude––”

Beca only registered the pressure against her mouth after a second. And then she realized that it was _Chloe’s_ _mouth_ on hers, and she was kissing her, and Beca should probably kiss her back, and _oh_.

Chloe pulled back, hands now cradling Beca’s face. She was still close enough that Beca could see the blues and flecks of grey in her eyes with startling clarity.

“Oh my god, Becs, did I read that wrong? I’m so sorry, I thought…I thought all semester, I’m so stupid, can we just forget that happened––”

“Oh hell no we can’t, you weirdo,” Beca whispered before tugging back on Chloe’s waist. Their lips crashed together in a fiery kiss, mouths slanting together like puzzle pieces. Chloe’s hands slid from Beca’s face to the nape of her neck then into her hair. When her tongue traced teasingly across Beca’s upper lip, she gasped––and Chloe delved deeper. The kiss turned from heated to languid and slow as they mapped out each other’s mouths. It wasn’t long before Chloe’s teeth grazed across Beca’s lower lip and Beca pulled her closer (which was damn near impossible––the two were flush already and Chloe was still drenched from the emergency shower, dampening Beca’s hoodie).

Beca broke away, lips instantly seeking out Chloe’s neck. She was warm and her neck was red and Beca was  _ determined _ to make it purple when the door to the restroom flew open.

The girls sprang apart, faces flushed, chests heaving. There was already a bruise forming under Chloe’s jaw. The towel had fallen from her shoulders and she was still topless. Stacie, Aubrey’s lab partner, stood in the doorway, grinning like mad. She didn’t even say anything, instead letting the door start to swing shut.

Beca heard her yell, “Aubrey, you owe me twenty bucks!” and a faint, “Dammit!” from the chemistry lab.

And then Chloe giggled, honest-to-goodness giggled, and both girls started laughing.

“What…what was that?” Beca asked. Her grin was so wide, her cheeks were starting to hurt.

“Becs…” Chloe’s arms looped around the smaller girl’s neck, pulling her close. “I’ve been flirting with you  _ all _ semester. You’re pretty oblivious, you know.”

“You flirt with everyone, Beale.” Beca tried to keep her cool, but Chloe was still very shirtless. Curse her disregard for personal boundaries. (They’d been making out moments ago, Beca was very thankful for her disregard, actually.)

“I don’t makeout with everyone in the second floor bathroom of the science building though.”

“You better not,” Beca growled, pinching Chloe’s side playfully.

Chloe squealed and batted at her hands. “You were staring something pretty fierce when I was topless under the shower and you were so cute when you were worried about me…” She shrugged. “I couldn’t help it.”

“Dude, you’re hot,” Beca said. “Everyone was staring.”

“Please stop calling me ‘dude’, I’m trying to have a moment with you.”

“No way,” Beca paused, “ _ dude _ .”

Chloe giggled and pressed a swift kiss to her lips before breaking away. She pulled her wet hair into a messy bun. “How do I look?”

“Wet,” came Beca’s sarcastic reply.

On second thought, she should have considered her answer more carefully because when Chloe turned around and raked her eyes up and down Beca, she almost collapsed. When she said, “Only for you, Mitchell,” in a  _ very _ sultry voice, Beca’s pretty sure her brain shortcircuited.

Instead of providing an answer, Beca peeled off her sweatshirt and tossed it to Chloe, leaving her in a tank top. Chloe raised an eyebrow and looked like she was going to say something, but Beca pointed a finger at her. “Don’t say anything. Put that on, let’s go get done with the experiment.”

Chloe pulled the sweatshirt on and smiled brightly. “Sounds good! Besides, I have other things to do today.”

Beca scoffed and rolled her eyes, moving to follow Chloe out of the restroom. “Like what?”

“You,” Chloe said airily, tossing a wink over her shoulder.

The door hit Beca on her way out.

(So  _ maybe _ Jesse was right.  _ Maybe _ they were a little more than friends. And  _ maybe _ Beca was okay with that.)


End file.
